


Beginnings

by budgie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, M/M, Marauders' Era, irregular updates, non-linear timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-21
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-08 05:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/439888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/budgie/pseuds/budgie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The years from when Remus Lupin and Sirius Black meet up until the day Sirius is sent to Azkaban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

The Prefect Remus is following is considerably taller than him, and he has to half-jog to keep up. There are three other boys Sorted into Gryffindor: Peter, James and Sirius. James and Sirius seem to be friends already, Remus wonders if they know each other from outside Hogwarts. He wonders if they’ll want to be friends with him, or if they’d just stick together. Peter seems to be walking with them.

_Will they like me?_ Remus thinks. _Probably not._ He can’t shake off the feeling that he is probably the most boring boy to be Sorted into Gryffindor. He should be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. He’s not very brave. He likes books and the indoors.

The Prefect shows them where the toilet and the showers are, explains the daily routines of life at Hogwarts and then leads them up to where they will be sleeping for the next seven years. The room is comfortable looking, with four four-poster beds with scarlet hangings and bedclothes. The Prefect leaves and Peter takes the first bed, James the second and then Sirius the third.

James and Sirius are talking about a boy on the train called Snivellus, though Remus doubts that is his real name. Sirius collapses on his own bed, his limbs spread out.

James seems to finally notice Remus. “Hi,” he says and smiles widely. “Didn’t see you there. I’m James.”

“Hello. I’m Remus.” He smiles, but he feels like he’s showing too much teeth.

“This is Sirius,” James says, “he’s grumpy because he thinks he should be in Slytherin.” James grins again. “I think he’s an idiot for thinking that. We’re in the best house, don’t you think?”

“I don’t really know,” Remus says. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he put them at his sides? Fold his arms?

Sirius sits up. “You Muggle-born?” His tone is sharp.

“N-no. My dad is a wizard.”

Sirius regards him critically for a few moments, then lies back down, staring moodily at the ceiling.

“My name is Peter,” says Peter. He’s shorter and chubbier than the others and looks much younger, although they are all the same age. His eyes are grey and a little watery and he’s wringing his hands.

“Hello.” Remus smiles at him.

James goes back to his bed and starts unpacking his trunk; Peter follows suit. Sirius remains on his bed, so still he could be made of stone.

Remus hadn’t spoken to any of them during the feast, instead he listened to the conversation around him. People always made it look so easy. How did they know what to say next?

Peter and James are talking, but Sirius remains silent.

“So why do you think you should be in Slytherin, then?” Remus asks.

Sirius turns his head to face Remus. “All my family have been in Slytherin. And I’m pure-blood. How am I supposed to tell my parents?”

“You’re not one of those blood purists, are you?” Remus says, trying to joke.

Sirius rolls his eyes and turns back to the ceiling.

If Sirius is so offended by the fact that Remus was a half-blood, imagine how he would feel if he found out that Remus was a werewolf! Would Remus be able to hide it well enough? Surely they would notice some time. Dumbledore had explained it all, he said it would be fine. Remus had seen the Whomping Willow, and it did look very impressive. But surely his dorm-mates would notice that he disappeared once a month, always at the full moon?

Remus sits down on his own bed and removes his socks, wriggling his toes. He would have to deny it. Would they confront him about it? He wrings his hands together. At least the next full moon was three weeks away. He had at least three weeks at Hogwarts, then.

“Sirius?” James says from where he is seated on his own bunk. “Did you see that weird looking tree? The Wanking Willow or whatever? We should check it out tomorrow!”

“A girl I was talking to at the feast said it _moved_ by itself!” Peter says.

“Bollocks,” James scoffs. “But there’s something weird about it. What d’you say?”

“Sure,” Sirius says as he sits up. “We should do it at night, though.” Peter gives a small noise of fright. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not!” Peter says.

“Good.” Sirius smirks.

“How about it, Remus?” James asks.

“Oh. Sure!” Remus says, grateful that James had thought to include him, even it was simply out of politeness.

Maybe he would make some friends here; James and Peter seem alright. He wouldn’t be making friends with Sirius any time soon, if his abysmal attempt at conversation was anything to go by.


	2. Love

It is a week until Sirius is due to go home for Christmas. It is snowing outside and he is glad he didn’t make the Quidditch team; James is out for a last practice before the holidays and Sirius had teased him all morning about it. Remus is still asleep and Peter is doing detention for Professor McGonagall.

“Remus,” Sirius says, prodding Remus in the face while he sleeps.

Remus stirs and swats Sirius’s hand away.

“Reeeeemus.”

“You sound like a mosquito,” he mutters into his pillow.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh.” Sirius moves in closer to Remus’s ear.

“Black!” Remus shouts and sits up in his bed. “Can’t I sleep in one day of the weekend!”

“No, obviously. Otherwise you would be in another house.” Sirius sits down heavily on the edge of Remus’s four-poster.

“If I were in another house, you would find out the password somehow and wake me any way, I’m sure.”

Sirius grins. “Yes.”

Remus lies back down on his side, turned away from Sirius. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“That’s not my fault.” He lies down next to Remus and puts an arm around him over the duvet. Their faces are inches apart and Sirius moves to kiss the other boy. Remus pulls the duvet up over his own mouth.

“Yes it is,” says Remus, voice muffled by the blanket. “Sometimes I wish I never taught you _Muffliato_.”

Sirius peels the duvet away from Remus’s face. “It comes in handy, though.”

“Too bad you can’t sneak into my bed _quietly_ , however. Don’t you think they wondered why you were tripping over your trunk at three in the morning?”

“They probably wonder why you don’t stop drooling whenever you’re in my presence, too.”

“Fuck you, Black.”

Sirius kisses him quickly, before Remus has a chance to pull the duvet back over his lips. “Moony ...” he trails off. “Moony, you should come stay with me and James.”

“What?”

“For Christmas. I want to have Christmas with you.”

“I don’t think my parents will let me. After Christmas?”

“Your parents can come, too.”

“You probably shouldn’t be inviting people over to James’s,” Remus says quietly. He wants to spend Christmas at the Potters’. He would love to. On Christmas mornings over the past six years, he always felt horrible that he would rather be back at Hogwarts, instead of with his parents.

“Well I’ll get James to ask.”

“You mean you’ll force him.”

“Well, not violently.” Sirius draws himself closer to Remus; his pyjamas are thinning and he hasn’t had the chance to buy new ones. “It’s cold.”

“Very subtle, Sirius.”

“I know. Subtlety is my speciality.”

“Alright, then, get in.”

Sirius scrambles under the sheets and Remus yelps as Sirius’s cold feet touch his own.

“Sorry,” Sirius says. He puts a hand on Remus’s waist. “Should have let me in earlier.”

“Or maybe never at all; I’m going to develop frostbite on my toes.” Remus does not move away, however, he moves closer and pushes one of his legs in between Sirius’s. He kisses the other boy, running a hand through Sirius’s long hair.

Sirius grins through the kiss and his hand moves down into Remus’s trousers. Remus jumps as though he’s been shocked. “Merlin’s beard your hands are freezing!” he says.

“I’m sure they’ll warm up in a sec—”

The dormitory door bursts open and James enters, looking thoroughly disgruntled. He’s sopping wet and his brow is utterly furrowed.

“Fucking Alderton!” he yelled, tossing his broom onto his bed. “Tell him where he can stick his broom,” he added, muttering to himself, walking in circles around the room.

Sirius and Remus break away; Sirius quickly slips his hand out of Remus’s underwear. “Quidditch practice off, then?”

“Yes it’s bloody well off! I can’t see a thing with these idiotic glasses!” He pauses in his frantic walking. “What are you two doing?”

“It’s cold, James,” Sirius says as he rolls his eyes, before Remus can answer. Remus is horribly bad at telling lies. “And I’m sure you’ve booby-trapped my bed because of what I said this morning so I’ve decided it’s unsafe.”

“Right. Well, I haven’t. In case you hadn’t noticed, I was out in the bloody snow all damn morning.”

“I’d noticed,” Sirius mutters so only Remus can hear. “James, Remus is staying at your parents’ for Christmas.”

“Really?” James immediately loses his sour demeanour. “This will be great!” He squelches toward Remus’s bed. “You haven’t been on Padfoot’s motorcycle yet, have you?”

“I am not getting on that thing.”

“It’s great, Moony. You’ll love it,” Sirius says as he sits up in the bed. “Oh, and can his parents come over on Christmas day to spend time with their beloved offspring?”

“Who’s their beloved offspring?”

“Your wit astounds me,” Remus says.

“I know it does. Anyway, sure. I’ll write my parents and ask. You wanna get some lunch?”

“You should probably get changed first,” Remus says.

“Eh?”

“You look like a drowned rat.”

“First time I’ve seen you with your hair flat,” Sirius says. He jumps out of Remus’s bed and stands beside James and ruffles his sopping wet hair.

“Oy, get out of it.” James punches him playfully in the arm.

“Don’t worry, Evans can’t see.”

“Fuck you, Sirius.” James turns to Remus. “Moony, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to the great hall in twenty minutes for luncheon, I would be honoured,” he says grandly, takes a bow and struts out of the room.

Sirius launches himself onto Remus’s bed, causing the other boy to groan in pain. “You’re much heavier than you look, Sirius.”

He crawls on top of Remus and kisses him fiercely. Remus pulls Sirius’s face closer to his, surprised that Sirius is already so warm. They break apart and Sirius leans close to the other boy’s ear. “I love you,” he says, and before Remus can reply, he gets off the bed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he says, “I haven’t finished torturing James about Evans.” He runs out the dormitory door.

Remus lies there, a little shocked. It’s the first time Sirius has told him that he loves him.

He smiles to himself as he gets dressed.


	3. Light

Sirius is contemplating the rather odd object in his hand. He taps it lightly with his fingernail and he can faintly hear a springy noise coming from inside it. “Remus, I don’t understand why we have to do this.”

“Sirius, we have to act like Muggles for the neighbours.” Remus puts down the chair he appropriated from the kitchen and takes the object out of Sirius’s hands. “And this is all part of being a Muggle.”

“Candles work just as fine as that ... thing. What was it called again?”

“A light bulb. And we can’t use candles, they’re old-fashioned.” Remus stands on the chair and reaches up to unscrew the old light bulb.

“You should love them, then.” Sirius stands near Remus, just in case he falls off. He notices that if he angles his head in just the right way, he gets a wondrous view of Remus’s arse.

“I am not old-fashioned.” Remus makes a noise as he reaches for the bulb.

“No, you’re right. Just old.”

“It’s stuck.”

“What?” Sirius is rather distracted by the view; it is hard to pay attention.

“I’m not tall enough, can you do it?”

Sirius groans. “I’ll break it.”

Remus gets down. “Go on.”

Sirius mutters to himself as he tries to unscrew it. “Why can’t we just do this by magic?”

“Neighbours.”

“Oh yes, the precious neighbours. You know, Remus, we should invite them over. And you could all get married and have lots of Muggle babies and prance around changing all these stupid, idiotic lamp bulbs and then I would be sitting outside. In the rain. Moping.”

“Light, not lamp. And we should invite them over.”

“No, we shouldn’t.” Sirius struggles for a few moments with the bulb. He lets out a cry of pain and topples off the chair. Remus tries to catch him, but instead, the both of them fall backward and the back of Sirius’s head smashes Remus in the face.

“See, Moony? This is why we should have got that place in Hogsmeade,” Sirius says as he sits up and surveys his damaged hand. There is a thin shard of glass in it. He winces as he pulls it out. “Remus?” He turns to look at the other man.

Remus is still lying on the ground, clutching his nose. Sirius scrambles off of him and kneels next to his head. “Are you alright?”

“I hate you, Sirius.”

“Oh good, you’re fine.” Sirius crosses his legs and tries to pry one of Remus’s hands off of his face. “Let me see,” he says.

Remus takes away his hands and sits up gingerly. “Is it bad?” he says thickly. There is a little blood dripping from his nose.

“No,” Sirius says finally.

“Why’d you take so long to say no?”

“I didn’t,” Sirius replies. He takes Remus’s hand, then winces.

“What happened to your hand?”

“The stupid light bulb, Remus. Remember how I fell on you and crushed your face? It tried to attack me.”

“You _crushed_ my face? You said it was fine!” Remus’s voice is getting higher with every syllable he utters. “You cock!”

“Well, you should have caught me properly.” Sirius grins at him. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” He moves closer to Remus and puts an arm around his waist. “You’re still very handsome.”

“You’re getting blood on my shirt.” Remus is pinching the bridge of his nose. He can still taste blood.

“Remus, I was trying to be romantic.”

“With the blood?”

“No, with the saying that you are still handsome. Very handsome in fact.”

“Yes well, I can’t kiss you with blood all over my face.”

“You could, it would just be disgusting.” Sirius smiles and kisses him on the forehead. “Come on, I’ll get my wand and fix your nose.” He stands.

“You can shove that wand up your arse, Sirius.” Remus glares at Sirius. “And not in a fun way.”


	4. Dark

Remus sits on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey said he could leave a good half-hour ago, but he does not want to see his friends. Specifically, he does not want to see Sirius.

“What are you doing, still hanging about? I’ve got students to take care of!”

Remus jumps, mutters a quick apology and rushes out into the corridor. He glances at his watch; classes have finished for the day. He sighs. Sirius, James and Peter will probably be in the common room, coming up with some kind of prank. He sighs again.

He contemplates whether or not he should murder Sirius. He probably shouldn’t, he decides. James would be most upset.

Climbing through the portrait hole, he takes a deep breath before he enters the common room. His friends are not there. Hopefully they are not up in the dormitory, or at least, hopefully only James and Peter are in the dormitory. Sirius might have detention. He has detention often enough.

The staircase has never felt so short. Too soon, Remus is outside the dormitory door. He wipes his palms on his trousers, takes a deep breath and places his hand on the doorknob. Staring at it for just a few moments, he closes his eyes and opens the door.

Sure enough, the dorm is not empty. James and Peter are sitting on the floor playing Exploding Snap. They look up when Remus enters.

“Moony!” James jumps to his feet. “Pomfrey fix you up, then?”

“Of course she did,” Peter says.

“Good—” James begins, but freezes mid-sentence as the door to the connecting toilet opens and Sirius enters the room.

Remus’s face darkens. “Sirius.”

“Moony!” Sirius says joyfully, though the feeling is not expressed in his face. “Feeling better?”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“What, ‘cause of the thing with Snivellus?”

“Oh no, about the socks you borrowed from me. Of course about Snape!” Remus strides toward Sirius much too fast; Sirius backs away. “What were you thinking, telling him about the Willow!”

Sirius looks at James and Peter, eyes pleading, but he gets no help from them. “Moony, it was just a laugh, that’s all.”

“He could have died, Sirius!”

“Since when do you care about Snape?”

“I care if you make me _murder_ him!” Remus shoves the other boy. “You don’t think about anyone except yourself. You always do this, Sirius! You never think of the consequences!”

Sirius places a hand on the place where Remus shoved him, not quite understanding what just happened. “Moony, I didn—”

“Exactly! You _didn’t think_ , as per usual.”

“Moony,” James begins, but Remus shoots him a look and he quietens, suddenly finding the floor very interesting to look at.

“Nothing happened, Moony, it’s okay! Snivelly’s back to being the slimy git that he is, and we—”

“And we what, exactly?” Remus hates being angry. He cannot stand the way his fists ball seemingly out of his control, his nails digging into the soft palms. His face has gone all blotchy, he is sure of it. “What?”

It is an odd sight, Sirius Black lost for words. His mouth opens and closes in a very unbecoming fashion. All the self-confidence, the arrogance is gone and he is just a boy who is scared of the sudden change in his friend.

“What do we do now, Sirius? Snape’s probably telling everyone right now! Everyone will know! It was supposed to be a secret!”

“Dumbledore’s sworn him to secrecy,” Sirius says quietly.

“Oh, well he couldn’t possibly tell anyone, now! Dumbledore’s _sworn him to secrecy_ , fancy that! Let’s all go pop down to Hogsmeade and get some firewhiskey, then! Jolly good _show!_ ” A part of Remus is screaming at himself to stop being so hysterical. “Sirius Black has everything under control, thank goodness. I can sleep easy, now.”

James and Peter have left the room, Remus suddenly realises.

“I didn’t mean for him to find out, Remus.”

Remus stares at him. “How could he not find out?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius says, not meeting Remus’s eyes.

“I could have killed him!”

“It wouldn’t have been your fault, it’s the wolf, it’s always the wolf.”

The wolf. Remus half-remembers smashing a chair against the staircase, smashing himself into a wall again and again, biting himself as he yelps, but it is not him, not really. He is not the wolf. “And you think that makes it okay?” He is not the wolf.

Sirius reaches out a hand to grasp Remus’s arm, Remus pushes his hand away. “Don’t.”

“Come on, Moony. Don’t be a tit.” Sirius moves closer, trying to hug him.

“Don’t.” He knocks Sirius’s arms away with a surprising force that makes Sirius stumble sideways into the nearest bedpost.

There is the tiniest bit of the wolf in the way Remus snarls the word and Sirius looks at him with something akin to fear. “Remus?”

Remus sees the look in Sirius’s eyes and it terrifies him. He doesn’t know what to say, so disgusted with himself, with Sirius. He turns on his heel and makes to leave the dormitory.

“No no no no,” Sirius says, finding his balance. “Moony, don’t go.”

“Just leave me alone, Sirius.”

“Please.” Sirius runs after the other boy and snatches his hand. Remus stops and Sirius almost collides into his back. Remus does not turn around. “Moony. I’m sorry.” He puts the hand that is not holding Remus’s on the other boy’s shoulder, squeezing a little.

Remus turns around and Sirius is scared of the darkness in his eyes.

“I am, honestly.”

The only sound in the room is of their breathing. Sirius can barely hear Remus’s, but Sirius’s own is loud and fast, afraid, but he does not move away.

“Please say something.”

Remus holds his gaze for too long before he says, quietly, “I can’t believe that you would do something like this.” He lets go of Sirius’s hand and walks out of the room.

* * *

Sirius has been waiting the rest of the day for Remus in the common room. James and Peter have long since gone to bed. Sirius assumes Remus is in the library, however, he has taken the Map so Sirius cannot check. He doesn’t have the Cloak, though, and Sirius wonders if he should take it to him. It is after hours, and he doesn’t want Remus to be in more trouble.

Sirius puts another log on the fire, prodding it with the fire tongs. Little sparks fly up the chimney. He supposes he shouldn’t have told Snape. It was probably one of his more stupid ideas. How could he help it, though, with Snivellus sneaking around, trailing hem all the damn time? He deserved it, really. Stupid git.

 _No, he didn’t,_ a small voice says in the back of Sirius’s head. _Moony thinks he didn’t, and Moony is usually right about these things._

Sirius rolls his eyes at himself and prods the fire once more.

He will take the Cloak to Remus, he decides. Maybe this will get him back in the good books. Practically running up the staircase, he rifles through James’s trunk until his hands find the cool, silvery material of the Cloak. He puts it over his head, grabs his wand off of his bedside and hurries down to the common room.

He begins to crawl through to leave, when the portrait opens and Remus crawls in. Their heads knock together and Sirius swears copiously.

“Sorry Moony,” Sirius says as they climb out of the hole. He brushes up against Remus’s arm. “Merlin, you’re freezing! Come on!” He drags the other boy to the couch in front of the fire and kneels beside him.

“Thank you.” Remus rubs his hands together in front of the flames.

“You’re not mad at me anymore.”

“Yes, I am.”

“But you just said thank you.”

“It’s called being polite. You’re supposed to be polite to acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances?” Sirius snorts. “I’ve seen you naked too many times for us to be acquaintances, Moony.”

“Sirius,” Remus says wearily, his head in his hands.

Sirius gets off the floor and sits beside Remus, wanting to put an arm around him but Sirius is not sure if he should and oh, God, what if Remus stays angry at him? A cold fear suddenly lodges itself in his throat and he swallows it with great difficulty before he speaks. “Moony, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. It was stupid. I’m stupid. I am _the_ biggest fool you’ve ever met but please, please, don’t be angry anymore.”

Remus looks at him. His eyes are wide, begging, and just may actually be filled with genuine regret. “I’m going to bed.” Remus gives him the tiniest smile before heading up the staircase.


	5. Seeking Solace

“James. It is a horrible thing we have not fully utilised our skills in all areas,” Sirius says as he prods the fire in the Gryffindor common room with a poker.

“What areas are you talking about?” James asks. “As we are highly proficient in most.”

“Potions,” says Sirius, the word slow and delicate.

“Potions,” James repeats.

“I’m not here,” Remus says. He picks up his essay-in-progress, quill, ink and a small mountain of books. “I have to do this essay for McGonagall. I did not hear anything.” He moves to a table on the other side of the room.

“What did you have in mind, Sirius?” James asks. His eyes are wide, excited. He gets the couch he was sitting on and sits next to Sirius on the floor in front of the hearth.

Peter shifts uncomfortably on the couch, alone.

Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“Polyjuice,” James says.

“Of course.”

“How have we not done _Polyjuice_ before?” James says. “Well, we can brew it in the dormitory, no one but us goes in there.”

“More’s the pity.” Sirius bows his regal head. “But yeah, brilliant, James. I had no idea where we could prepare it.”

“Recipe?”

“I’m sure Moony can help us out.”

“No,” Remus says from behind his books. He doesn’t look up.

“But _Remus_.” James glides over to the boy’s desk. “Think of the books.”

“Yes,” Sirius says, following James. “If you’re not there, well, we might pick up the wrong book.”

“And then, when we decide it does not hold the information we need ...”

“We might put it back on the shelf ...”

“But it will be in the wrong place.”

Remus flinches. “I don’t care.”

“Moony, Moony, I don’t think you understand. Perhaps, one day, a student—”

“—such as yourself—”

“—such as yourself, thank you, Sirius. Maybe you, Moony, will need this book. Because you will have a burning question and you simply must find the answer ...”

“But, oh! look! The book isn’t there! And you will ask Pince, your future wife, but she will not be able to find it either.”

“And how you will sob together. You will lend her your favourite hanky.”

“You two are disgusting.” Remus has put down his quill and is surveying his two friends. It is times like this he wishes he wore glasses.

“You should really wear glasses, Moony. It would make your stares so much more foreboding,” says Sirius.

James snorts. “They’re not foreboding at all.”

Remus gives him a withering look and picks up his quill. “Leave me alone. Deviants.”

“James, we’re supposed to be sweet-talking him!” Sirius says. “Remus. I will write your essay. Just help us find the book.”

“That’s not sweet-talking!” James says. “Remus, oh Remus. My sweet popinjay. Light of my life.”

“Excluding Evans.”

“And your Mum.”

Sirius’s face darkens, all traces of amusement forgotten.

“Er, Moony!” James exclaims with much more enthusiasm than necessary. “Come on. Help us.”

“Why can’t Peter help you desecrate the library?”

“Peter doesn’t know how to use the library, do you, Pete?” James turns around to find Peter is no longer on the couch. “Huh. He’s gone to bed.”

“Remus, think of the books,” says Sirius. He can see Remus is wavering. His handwriting has gone wobbly and he just misspelt ‘transfigure’.

“We’ll probably leave fingerprints on their fragile pages.”

“Sticky fingerprints.”

“Greasy, sticky fingerprints.”

Sirius notes that Remus has now misspelt a word as _Why am I friends with these heathens?_

“Moony, think of the state the shelves will be in.”

“But you two can use the library perfectly well,” Remus says finally.

“We don’t need _well_ ,” James says. “We need perfectly _perfect_.”

Sirius nods. “Our times is precious.”

“Evidently.” Remus puts down his quill. “Fine. When?”

“Tonight, of course.”

“Right now, in fact. I’ll get the Cloak.” James dashes up the staircase.

“So what are we looking up?” Remus asks as he packs up his things. He stacks the books neatly on top of each other.

“I’ll write it for you, don’t worry. I’ve perfected your handwriting over the years.”

“My handwriting? Why?”

“It might come in handy.”

“Might, or did?”

“Well,” Sirius says. “I was going to tell you.”

“Who have you been writing to?”

“James!” Sirius exclaims. He rushes to the bottom of the staircase where James has just emerged. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Remus says as he lets Sirius drape the Cloak over him.

“It’s my astonishing good looks.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James says as they bunch up to crawl awkwardly through the portrait hole.

“Moony was talking, too!” Sirius whispers. The castle is silent. Filch could be anywhere; he has a way of sneaking up on one when one is least expecting it. Even though they are hidden from view by the Cloak, their voices can still be heard.

“But he’s not a pompous idiot like you.”

“Like us,” Sirius says.

“Shh!” Remus stops the other two, alert. He can hear something. Whilst Sirius has the best hearing when transformed, Remus has always had a heightened sense because of his lycanthropy.

“Filch?”

“Mrs Norris?”

“I can’t hear if you’re talking!” Remus whispers.

“We’re not talking, we’re whispering.”

“Sirius, be quiet.”

“Okee-doke.” There is a pause. “So is it them?”

“Sirius!”

* * *

The library is quiet. This is the main reason Sirius isn’t overly fond of it. That and Madam Pince. He has always thought that she had been cross-bred with a dragon or, at the very least, a highly vicious kind of bookworm. Sirius wonders if she sleeps in here as he looks at the towering shelves. Sirius has never seen her on any of his midnight wanderings yet, but that does not mean anything.

“So what are we looking for?” Remus asks as he steps out from under the Cloak. He takes a lantern from a nearby table and lights it. He always prefers looking up books with the lamp light rather than his wand’s, though he is not sure why. He thinks Sirius probably thinks he is odd.

“A recipe!” James rips the Cloak off of himself and Sirius dramatically. “A most evil recipe.”

“Are you going to poison my breakfast again?”

“That was an honest mistake, Remus. We didn’t realise you would have such an ... _extreme_ reaction.”

“It’s not food, don’t worry,” Sirius says as he lights another lamp. “’Tis a potion, fair maiden.”

“With which we plan to woo you.” James cackles.

“Good word, ‘woo’,” says Sirius, scanning the spines of the books on the shelf nearest him. “We’re looking for a recipe for Polyjuice Potion.”

“Polyjuice?”

James and Sirius nod eagerly.

“That’ll probably be in the restricted section.” Remus leads them to it. “I’m fairly sure I heard Slughorn talk about it.”

“When he wasn’t fawning over Evans,” Sirius says, with a sideways, evil glance at James, who has turned a shocking shade of pink.

“Yes, well, anyway.” Remus drags Sirius into the restricted section by the elbow. James follows. His face is not completely recovered, yet. “James, you do that aisle. Start from the middle. A little to your left ... yep, there. Sirius, you start down the end of this one, I’ll start from here.”

“I love when he’s in library mode,” Sirius says.

James grins at him before turning to the shelf in front of him. He gives a yell of horror. The other boys turn to find him holding a book oozing some kind of black liquid.

“Put it back!” Remus rushes toward James but Sirius gets there first. He slams the book shut and shoves it back onto the shelf.

“James,” he says, trying not to panic. “James, are you okay?” He puts a hand on James’s shoulder. “James?”

“Um, I-I think so.” James takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing’s tingling or itchy or anything?”

James shakes his head. “The book ... It, I don’t know, it told me to open it.”

“First things first, you blithering idiot,” Sirius says. “Never listen to book if they can bloody well _speak_ to you!” Except, of course, in a metaphorical way.” He directs the last sentence at Remus.

Remus nods. “Just let us know if anything starts to feel ... weird.”

Minutes pass. Everything is silent except for Remus, who is quietly muttering the book titles under his breath. Sirius regards him fondly. He likes that Remus likes books. He does not quite understand why. He likes the way Remus’s face crinkles in a lopsided kind of secret smile when Sirius finds (steals) yet another mouldy old book from his family home and gives it to Remus. He always turns the pages so carefully, like they’re something precious. And Sirius especially likes when Remus sniffs the pages when he thinks no one is looking. Sirius tried smelling old books a couple of times, but whatever magic they brought to Remus was lost on himself.

Sirius is glad when Remus finds _Moste Potente Potions_ because he’s not sure these are the kinds of thoughts he should be having about one of his best friends.

* * *

The book is old and smelly and Sirius laughs because Remus looks as though he could die of happiness.

“So, we need lacewing flies, leeches ...” James scans the page. “It’ll be easy enough to nick these from Sluggy.”

“The fluxweed has to be picked at the um, at the full moon,” says Remus.

“Where are we supposed to find fluxweed?” Sirius asks.

“We’ll find it, ye of little faith,” says James. “So, Remus, you in?”

“No.” He shuts the book.

“You don’t even know what the plan is, yet!”

“I’m going to bed.”

Sirius and James watch him leave. When they hear the dormitory door open and close, James speaks. “That was weird.”

“Must be his time of the month.” Sirius rubs his eyes. He wouldn’t mind going up to bed with Remus. Not to bed _with_ Remus, he tells himself. Just to bed as well as Remus. He doesn’t want to go to bed with Remus. But oh, he does. _Don’t think about it_.

“That’s it!” James says. “The fluxweed’s picked at the full moon. That must be why he’s all beddy.”

“Beddy?”

“Yes. Technical term.”

“Right. Well, I’m going to join Moony.” Sirius blushes. “That is, I’m going to bed. To sleep.”

“Okay.” James is reading the book and takes no notice of Sirius’s blush. “Night.”

“Night.”

When Sirius enters the dormitory, he knows Remus is not asleep. He cannot hear the slow, sleep-breath pattern he is used to. Peter is snoring quietly.

Sirius gets into his pyjamas but, instead of going into his own bed, he pokes his head through the drawn curtains of Remus’s four-poster.

“Moony?”

Remus doesn’t speak.

“I know you’re awake.” Sirius climbs through the curtain and sits on the end of the bed.

“Ow.” Remus shifts. “That’s my foot.”

“Sorry. Thought your mattress was a bit lumpy.”

“Har har.”

“No need for sarcasm, now.”

“You said there was always need just last week.” Remus sits up and Sirius sees that his hair is tousled.

“Do you remember everything I say?”

“Yes.”

Sirius gives a small, quiet laugh.

“What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here, Remus. Don’t you remember the last four years?”

“I meant why are you sitting on my bed at three in the morning? On a school night, I might add.”

“Why were you pretending to be asleep at three in the morning? On a school night, no less.”

There is no response.

“Moony?”

Remus sighs and Sirius sees him run a hand through his own hair. The other day, whilst Sirius was not paying attention in History of Magic, he noticed a grey hair in Remus’s hair. At first, he thought it had been a trick of the light, but no. If it had been anyone else, he would have made fun of them, but not Moony.

“Is it because of the fluxweed?”

A pause. Sirius knows Remus is deciding whether or not to lie. “No.”

“What, then?”

“Nothing. I have to sleep.”

“Remus, come on.” Sirius edges closer up the bed.

“It’s Polyjuice Potion, Sirius.”

Sirius blinks for a few seconds. “What? So?”

“It’s for _humans_ only.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sirius.” Remus’s tone is urgent. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, but for the life of him, Sirius has no idea what Remus is on about. “Humans.”

“We’re not going to turn you into a pigeon or anything.”

Remus sighs again. “ _I’m_ not human. Me.”

Sirius stares. “Wh— Moony. Of course you are. You’re human.” He moves so he is sitting next to Remus, acutely aware that this is probably not something most other fourteen year old boys do in the middle of the night. He places a hand on Remus’s arm.

“I’m not.” Remus’s voice cracks.

Sirius, heart hammering so hard he is sure Remus can hear it, hugs him. They have hugged before, but this hug is distinctly different from any other hug Sirius has ever given. He does not know how to comfort—his parents did not exactly practise this notion—but he is certain that he is doing alright with this hug.

Remus is warm. He is always warm and Sirius suspects it has something to do with the lycanthropy. But Remus doesn’t feel any different to himself. He doesn’t feel different to James or Peter. Remus just feels like a boy. Human. Sure he transforms at the full moon, but does that take away the fact that he’s human? Surely not.

As Sirius holds his friend in the dark, he is certain he is right.

* * *

After picking the fluxweed, the potion takes three weeks to make. The four Gryffindor boys stand in their dormitory, each holding a goblet of the potion.

James drops his sample of hair into the potion and it turns navy blue. He sniffs it and his nose wrinkles. “Well, here goes.” He scrunches his eyes shut and downs the potion in one.

Peter follows suit and gags as he tastes the potion. He pits half of it out and it sprays onto James, who is now a very burly Slytherin boy. “Pete!” James says in a very deep voice. “Careful!”

Sirius adds his hairs; the potion turns the colour of kidney beans. “Yay,” he says dully before drinking the potion. He tries not to watch Remus as he drinks his own potion (a light grey), but he can’t help it.

Sirius’s skin feels hot and bizarre and he’s shrinking. He flexes his now-stubby fingers. His clothes and shoes are all too small. “I’ve lost my dashing good looks,” he laments to Remus.

Remus who still looks like Remus.

“Hurry up, Moony,” James says.

“I drank it,” says Remus, who looks very pale. He’s clutching his stomach.

“Oh.” Sirius stares at him. “Oh.”

“I don’t feel good. I think I—” he puts a hand over his mouth and rushes to the toilet attached to their dormitory.

“Shit,” says James. “Moony, you alright?”

The sounds of vomiting greet his words.

“Shit.”

“Should we get Pomfrey?” Peter asks.

“I’m okay,” Remus says, weakly, from the toilet. There are more vomiting sounds.

“Pete, get her,” James says and Peter dashes from the room. James turns to Sirius. “What’s happening? Why isn’t it working?”

“I think ... It’s, well. Moony said that he wasn’t human, but I said that was rubbish and—”

“Of course. We’re idiots!” James bites his lip as he runs a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“Pomfrey’ll sort him.”

The two boys walk to the toilet to find Remus in the foetal position.

“I think the vomiting’s stopped,” he says in a voice that is not his own, but it is, but it isn’t again.

“Remus?” Sirius crouches down next to him. He places a hand on Remus’s arm but withdraws it immediately. “He’s burning, James!”

James gets out his wand and points it at Remus. “Take off his robes.”

“What?”

“We have to cool him down!”

“Oh.” Sirius’s hands fumble with Remus’s robes. He eventually succeeds in getting them off and Remus is lying there in just his pants.

Water gushes from the end of James’s wand. Remus groans and it is only then that Sirius realises that Remus’s skin looks like it is made of melting plastic and it won’t stop moving and just looking at it in its constant turmoil makes him want to be sick, too.

“Move out of the way!”

Sirius feels a hand yank him away from Remus. Madam Pomfrey gets out her wand and begins muttering something.

“Sirius, come on.” James says in his ear. Sirius realises they are both soaking wet. He can’t remember how his legs work. Surely they’re not supposed to be shaking like this?

James pulls him out of the toilet room and sits him on the nearest bunk. Peter is there. Sirius feels like he is very far away and he cannot hear what Peter and James are saying.

Eventually, they all turn back into their own selves and Sirius’s clothes fit him again.

Remus is on a stretcher when Pomfrey finally emerges from the toilet. He looks at them but doesn’t say a word.

Sirius has no idea what to say.

He watches, mute, as Remus is taken to the hospital wing.


	6. Break Away

“This is it.” James’s voice wobbles the tiniest bit as they walk down the steps to the boats. None of them have seen these boats since the very time they saw them; their first day at Hogwarts.

Remus remembers that day. He had sat on the train by himself and wondered just how long he would be able to stay at Hogwarts. Surely someone would notice that he was different, then the secret would be out and he would be sent home for more homeschooling and no friends.

Sirius nudges Remus in his ribcage. “Come on, Moony. The boats’ll leave without us.”

James and Peter are already in the boat, laughing about something or other. James keeps sneaking glances at Lily, who, when James isn’t looking at her, is sneaking glances at him. They catch each others’ eyes and grin. They have plans to move in together, as soon as possible.

Sirius and himself have never discussed anything of the sort. Remus knows that Sirius has his own apartment to live in, and Remus would like to live in it with him, but ... Remus doesn’t know how to begin to get that conversation going. Will what they have continue after Hogwarts? Sirius doesn’t want anyone to know. They have never told anyone, but Remus is sure James knows. He acts like he doesn’t, but James is not an idiot.

“Do you think we’ll come back here?” Remus says.

Sirius looks up at the castle, towering above them.

“Of course. Where else are we going to send—”

He blushes.

“Where are we going to send what?”

“Nothing.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to miss this.”

“Running from Filch?”

Sirius laughs. “Well, yes. But I meant ... just ... everything. The dormitories, the common room. The food, even the homework. And us. Life is just ... life is perfect here. And, I guess, I guess I’m just going to miss it.”

Remus frowns. “What do you mean?” Now is probably not the time, but the words leak from his mouth before he can stop himself. “What’s going to happen about us?”

Sirius stares at him. “That is terrible grammar, Lupin.”

“Sirius.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t you ... Aren’t you going to live with me forever and always and bake me delicious baked goods which are baked?”

Remus frowns. “I have never expressed a desire to bake.”

Sirius bursts into laughter, eventually wiping a tear from his eye. “But, Remus. Do you want to live with me? I mean it. All baking jokes aside.”

Remus could probably reply with some more amusing banter, let the conversation continue until Sirius is begging for a proper answer. Sirius does it to him often enough and it is their usual way when they are discussing things that are important, to create a distance in which there is safety.

“Yes,” he says. “I would like that.”

Sirius grins and hugs him tightly, getting their arms entangled in their too-long graduation robes. Although, really, Sirius’s is the right size, it is Remus’s that doesn’t fit.

“Well, we better get to the boats,” Sirius says when they’ve broken apart. He can’t stop grinning like a fool and Remus knows that his face wears the same expression.

They make their way down to where James is leaning over to talk to Lily and Peter is staring out over the water looking bored.

Remus gets into the boat first and holds the sides to steady himself.

“Squidge over,” Sirius says, and Remus complies. “You don’t get seasick, do you?”

“Not to my knowledge. Why, do you?”

“No idea. Last time I was in these boats I did vomit. But that was because James and I had eaten all those sweets on the train here ... James, remember that?”

“Eh?” James twists to raise an eyebrow at Sirius. “You’ve vomited too many times for me to keep track of.”

“But that was the first vomit, James! Our first vomit together.”

“Alrigh’, now,” comes Hagrid’s booming voice from a slightly larger boat. “Everyone ready?”

Sirius takes Remus’s hand, covered by Remus’s ridiculously large sleeve.

The boats push off from the shore.


	7. Heaven

Sirius can’t quite believe that Remus’s house is so quiet. No one is shouting. There are no house elves about, either. Remus’s parents do everything. At first he thought that was the reason why they looked so tired, but now he knows there are other factors.

When they saw Remus, he got hugs form both of them. Not just a quick embrace, either, but long hugs full of love that Sirius could plainly see on Remus’s parents’ faces. He had looked away.

“Remus?” he says, now. He’s in a fold-up bed that is set up in Remus’s bedroom. “Are you awake?”

Remus stirs in the bed. He blinks a couple of times, running a hand over his face before he looks at Sirius. His hair is sticking up in every direction.

Sirius snorts. “You look like James.”

Remus mutters something unintelligible.

“I know you’re not a morning person, but I was wondering if your parents would be home.”

Remus shakes his head, leaning back against the pillow. “They’re at work.”

Normal people’s parents work, Sirius realises. “Oh. Right.”

He sits up. “So, you said you’d show me around your muggle town today.”

Sirius knows all about muggle London. He would sneak out at first, but then when he realised that no one noticed his absences, he would just walk out the front door.

At first, Regulus would say something, but he soon got used to Sirius’s absence. Occasionally, Sirius would take Regulus with him, but as they grew older Regulus withdrew into himself and soon they had stopped talking to each other altogether.

“It’s not that interesting,” Remus says, turning over to face the wall.

Sirius frowns, then gets out of his camp bed and into Remus’s. It’s a single and Sirius can feel Remus’s bony legs against his own.

“It could be fun,” he whispers. Remus shivers.

“That’s not very attractive, Sirius,” Remus says. His voice is suddenly much clearer and Sirius can see goose bumps appearing on the other boy’s neck.

“What is, then? Lying in bed all day?”

“Yes.”

“I hate you.” Sirius musses up Remus’s hair and gets out of the bed. Walking over to the window, he thrusts the curtains open.

Through the opened blinds, he gets a spectacular view of Remus’s neighbour eating her breakfast. The woman’s eyes widen, and then Sirius remembers he isn’t wearing anything. 

He shuts the curtains curtly.

“That’s why you shouldn’t sleep nude,” Remus says.

“I don’t recall you ever complaining. And you could have warned me.”

Remus grins at him.

“Come on, get up. I’ll make you pancakes.”

There is no reply as Remus pulls the blankets up over his head.

“I’ll make you ten million pancakes if you get up, Remus.”

“Maybe.” His voice is muffled.

In the kitchen, Sirius makes a stack of pancakes and after rummaging around in the fridge, finds some bacon and an egg and cooks them. The smell will get Remus out of bed, he knows.

Soon enough, Remus emerges, blinking in the bright light of the kitchen. He yawns widely.

“Have a seat,” Sirius says with a flourish of the tea towel he’s holding. He pulls out a chair and holds it out for Remus.

Remus sits in it heavily and stares, heavy-lidded, at the food in front of him. “You made all this?”

Sirius nods as he puts the tea pot down on the table and sits.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Remus says. “Don’t you have a house elf?”

“I don’t cook at home,” he says, passing the egg to Remus’s plate. “Sometimes when I go to the kitchens, the house elves teach me things.”

“Oh.” Remus stops to each some bacon. “It’s good. Does James help out with the cooking?”

“Mainly the eating.”

Remus smiles. “You sure you don’t want the egg?”

“I cooked it for you. So, what is there to do in this place?”

“Not much,” Remus says. “We could go to the super market, or for a walk. That’s about it.”

“That’s it? What about all the quaint muggle fascinations? Washing machines and light balls?” 

Sirius eats some more. It’s not bad, if he does say so himself. Remus seems to enjoy what he’s eating. Or, at least, he doesn’t think it tastes disgusting. Unless he’s very good at hiding his feelings. Which he is. Is he good at hiding disgust from food, though? Sirius frowns.

“Light bulbs, and we have washing machines, too. How do you think our clothes get clean? They’re not the same as our machines, they run on electricity.”

“What is that?”

“It’s like ... A power source. See the light bulb up there?” Remus points. “It’s connected to the electricity with wires.”

Sirius looks at it and it burn his eyes. He rolls his eyes at himself. Looking directly into the light source, probably not a good idea. He blinks until the spots leave his eyes.

Remus finishes the egg and moves onto the bacon. Sirius watches him, but Remus shows no signs of displeasure.

“Those ones you showed me yesterday?”

“No, that was just the switch. You use that to turn something on and off. They’re like cables that have metal in them and they all connect to everything.”

“Right. Where does it come from, then?”

“No idea. A generator. You have to get an electrician to connect everything, and then a power company.”

“Sounds complicated. But then why does the stove look like the ones we have? I could use it fine.”

“Maybe to hide magic from Muggles? I don’t know.”

“Makes sense. So, after breakfast shall we hit the town?”

Remus grins. “Sure.”

He digs into the food quickly and Sirius watches him, his own food getting cold. He smiles. Remus is enjoying what he made.

* * *

The town is not very exciting. There is a handful of shops down the main street, mostly cafes and op shops. There are a lot of trees and the air smells fresher than what Sirius is used to, though. The main thing is that Remus is there with him.

“See? Very interesting.”

“I’m having fun,” Sirius says.

“You must be bored. It’s boring, here. You’d have more fun at James’s.” 

“Moony, no I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not all ... wacky like he is. You two go on all kinds of adventures.”

“We have adventures.”

“Sex counts as adventures?”

“Other adventures, too. And of course it counts as adventures. What on earth are you thinking, Moony?”

“My mistake,” Remus says drily. “I am awfully boring.”

“You’re awfully Moony-like.” Sirius gives him a light push. “Chin up, Remus. Let’s go for a walk.”

Remus takes him into a little forest nearby. There’s a walking track that leads down to a river. They take off their shoes and lift up their pants and walk down the stream. Sirius leans down, splashes Remus with some water, and runs down the river, cackling.

“Come on, Moony,” he calls, then shrieks and slips over. 

“Sirius?” Remus calls, taking careful steps towards the boy. “Sirius, are you alright?”

Sirius sits in the river bed, clutching his foot. He’s let go of his shoes and one is caught on a branch a little downstream. The other one can’t be seen. 

Remus walks over to him. “What happened?”

“Cut my foot on something,” Sirius says, showing Remus the bloody sole as the other boy squats beside him. “Rivers are dangerous, Moony. We should stick to safer things like trees that can fight back.”

Remus shrinks away from him slightly. Before Sirius can say anything, though, Remus takes his foot in his cool hands. 

“See, maybe being careful can be a good thing,” Remus says. “Come on, let’s go to the riverbank and dry it off.” 

Sirius hops, Remus supporting him, to the shore. They sit down on an old log and Sirius uses his shirt to dry his foot. By now, it’s stopped bleeding. Remus takes the foot into his hands to look at the wound.

“That cut is tiny,” Remus says. 

“Lupin, I am ailing,” Sirius says, wincing. “Be careful.”

“You’ll be fine. Although maybe we shouldn’t go any further down the river. Here’s a good a spot as any.” 

From the bag on his back, he takes out the sandwiches they brought with them. 

“I really liked those shoes,” Sirius says after a while. “They served me well. You know, they were the same shoes I was wearing when I first rode my bike.”

Remus smiles at him. “May they rest in peace.”

Sirius limps over to the riverbank and looks downstream. “Can’t see them anywhere. I hate being underage, we could accio them in a second.”

“And you could fix your foot.”

“Maybe you should do that, though. Remember last time I tried to heal something?”

Remus grimaces. “True. When we get back home I can heal you there, if my dad is home.”

Sirius lies on the bank. The grass is slightly damp but the sun shining onto his belly keeps him warm. Remus sits next to him, picking at the grass near his feet.

“There’s nowhere like this in London,” Sirius says, turning onto his side. He pulls at the back of Remus’s shirt, untucking it from his pants. “You dork.”

“My waist gets cold.”

“I know,” Sirius says. “You’re still a dork.”

Remus doesn’t say anything.

“I like dorks.”

Remus snorts. “You’re a dork.”

“I’m not a dork.”

“Yes, you are.” Remus turns and leans over to Sirius, kissing him lightly. “Dork.”

“Moony,” Sirius says. “You’re not boring. You can be wacky.”

“I can be wacky?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. Are you sure the grievous wound hasn’t gone to your head?”

Sirius looks at him, his clothes wet in the places where Sirius splashed him, his shirt hanging out, his sweater vest that is a horrible shade of brown that would look terrible on anyone except for Remus.

“I’m sure, Remus.”

They get home and Remus’s father is there. Sirius gets his foot healed. Remus shows him a bit more of the town then, when the sun begins to set, they have dinner at the table. As much as he enjoys himself, Sirius finds the same jealousy he always feels at James’s. Family is something he misses, if he can miss something he’s never really had.

Remus told him it was silly, but Sirius managed to convince him that sleeping in the same bed was a good idea. After a lot of fidgeting, they both found a position where no one’s hair was in anyone’s mouth and no feet were going to fall asleep.

“You smell like soap,” Sirius says.

“Well, I did just have a shower. You should, by the way.”

Sirius laughs. “Maybe you could help me tomorrow.”

“Maybe I could.”

Sirius sighs in contentment. The only sounds he can hear are his and Remus’s breathing. He’s warm from Remus’s body and he nuzzles his face into the pillow.

“Good night, Remus.”

“Night, Sirius.”

Happiness is this, is this, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line is from _Mrs Dalloway_ by Virginia Woolf.


	8. Innocence

James is always so loud. He’s short, shorter than Sirius, but Sirius has always imagined that James is taller than him. James lacks a lot of common sense sometimes -- most times -- but Sirius looks to him for guidance. James always knows what to do.

Sirius will never admit it to the other boy, but he has always considered himself a sidekick of sorts. They’re partners, always. Best friends. James does not look down on him, Sirius has always been an equal. But James is the one with the plan. He is the leader.

But now, putting on his dress robes, Sirius sees James, and he is so small. The night before, his eyes had been puffy and red. Now, his face is just white. There is no emotion, his features are slack.

He didn’t want to see anyone, not even Lily, except Sirius. James had never been one for firewhisky, but in the past couple of days he had had more than Sirius cared to measure.

James struggles with the buttons on the front of his dress robes.

‘Here,’ Sirius says, undoing the buttons that James has placed in the wrong holes.

James is silent as Sirius finishes. By the end, Sirius’s hands are shaking. The Potters were practically his own parents but he had squashed his own feelings down. This was James’s day of mourning. He couldn’t take that away from him.

‘Ready?’ Sirius asks.

James nods.

The house is quiet as the two of them walk to the lounge. The Potters’ usual chairs are both sitting in the lounge and Sirius keeps his eyes away from them as he guides James to the fireplace.

‘Do you want to go first?’ Sirius asks.

‘Can you?’

If Sirius goes first, James might not follow. 

‘Sure.’ Sirius takes a handful of Floo powder and throws it into the flames. ‘Don’t be too long.’ He claps a hand on James’s shoulder.

Sirius is warm for a few moments, then finds himself in an impeccably clean room with vases of flowers everywhere, as well as two other fireplaces. He steps forward a little bit to leave room for James and waits.

There are people in the next room, Sirius can hear their muffled talking. He takes a peek through the door but everyone looks too old and sad and he recognises no one. He withdraws his head and goes back to staring at the fireplace.

‘Sirius?’ says Remus behind him.

Remus walks through the door. ‘I don’t think you saw me. I waved.’

Sirius stares at him for a few moments. Sirius recognises the robes as the ones Remus’s father wore in the wedding photo on Remus’s mantelpiece.

‘How are you feeling?’

Sirius shrugs. ‘I don’t know. James will be here soon.’

Remus walks towards him and Sirius hugs him tightly, burying his face in Remus’s collar. He feels Remus’s hands on his back. There’s no urge to cry, Sirius feels nothing.

They stay like that until James emerges from the fireplace.

‘We should probably go in,’ Sirius says after James hugs Remus. ‘Are you ready?’

James takes a deep breath and stands tall. ‘Okay,’ he says in a voice far too small for him.

They enter the room and Sirius guides James quickly to the front, where they sit. Sirius isn’t sure where Remus ends up sitting, but James is pale and right now, he is the only one Sirius can think about.

James sits silently throughout the service until he is asked to speak. His voice wavers but he sends a farewell to his parents that makes the emptiness inside Sirius go away and tears run down his cheeks.

When James sits down, he reaches for Sirius’s hand. They sit unmoving until it’s time for the burial.

The entire time, James does not let go of Sirius. His hand is sweaty and cold but Sirius grips it tightly, wishing he could do more but he doesn’t know what to do. He has never mourned someone properly, let alone two at once. He wasn’t allowed to his uncle’s funeral.

When he’s asked to throw a rose onto the coffins, James utters a small sob.

The reception afterwards and people keep trying to come up and talk to James, but he turns to Sirius and then they go for a walk, picking up Lily and Remus and Peter along the way.

Lily takes James’s hand from him with a tight, sad smile, and Sirius falls into step beside Remus. The five of them sit under a tree, far enough away that they can’t hear the people at the reception, but they can still see them.

Sirius leans against Remus. ‘You look good,’ he says. He laughs a little at the absurdity of the statement.

But Remus only smiles at him. ‘You too. But you need some sleep.’

‘James needs some sleep,’ Sirius says so only Remus can hear him. 

‘Do you want me to come over, maybe help out?’

Sirius nods. ‘James said he doesn’t want people over, but I’m sure you don’t count. You too, Pete,’ he says, when he sees the other boy straining to eavesdrop. ‘Come on, let’s have a send-off tonight, James. A proper one. You should come too, Evans.’

Lily looks at James, who nods.

Not much happens that night. They drink and dance and when the sun rises, it’s only Sirius and James awake. They sit on the floor, backs against the wall. Peter passed out on the floor, Lily followed soon after on the couch and Remus had gone to bed a few hours ago.

‘Thanks, Sirius. For today.’

His voice is different. Now he’s by himself, like Sirius, except not by choice.

Sirius nods. ‘Anytime, Prongs.’

James eventually falls asleep, his head resting on Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius closes his eyes and leans his head against James’s.


	9. Drive

‘No,’ Remus says. ‘No, no, _no_ , Sirius.’ It’s an abomination. It is disgusting. It’s _absurd_. The indignity of it all.

‘It’s fun,’ Sirius says, practically purring at the beast. ‘You’ll love it.’

‘You know you’re lying,’ Remus says. 

Sirius grins and rests a hand on his ungodly motorcycle. ‘Don’t listen,’ he says to it. ‘Remus will love you.’

Remus doesn’t know how Sirius hasn’t died while on it. It flies, it’s a magical muggle device, and it’s being ridden by the most irresponsible boy the world has ever known. This is an exact recipe for disaster, and Remus is quite sure that later on when Sirius is a famous handsome something-or-other there will be studies done on how he did not crash this motorcycle into anything causing grievous, tragic bodily harm.

‘I will do no such thing,’ Remus says. ‘Where is James, anyway?’

‘James is probably out snogging his beau,’ Sirius replies. ‘He’s having lunch with her family, he told us last night.’

‘Last night when I was asleep?’

‘Probably.’

The motorcycle shines in the low garage light. ‘Good of the Potters to let you keep that beast here,’ Remus says.

‘Good of them to let me, of all people, stay here.’ Sirius ponders for a moment. ‘Then again, they did bring up James.’

‘I don’t know that that’s a fair comparison. James has some sense about him.’

‘Am I too reckless, Moony?’ Sirius grins in that way he does, flicking his hair out of his eyes. He oozes casual, really, Remus thinks as he takes in the way Sirius leans on the workbench strewn with tools and oil stains, his sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows, shirt riding up to expose his hips just a little. 

‘You are,’ Remus replies. He often wonders if he is stuffy. He never knows what to do with his hands. Right now they’re at his sides, unnaturally straight arms with slightly sweaty palms. He’s only wearing a t shirt because it’s the summer holidays and he feels naked without a jumper on, without a scarf. More clothes means more things to hide his body. Not that he doesn’t like his body, it’s a body and does the things he needs it to, but it can reveal too much on occasion. Such as now, he can feel his neck going red and he knows Sirius has noticed even though he doesn’t say anything.

‘One little ride,’ Sirius says. ‘Come on. We’ll go out into the woods.’

‘The woods?’

‘So we can take off without the muggles seeing.’

‘Take off?’

‘Fly, Moony.’

Remus splutters, starts choking on his own spit and Sirius has to come over and pat him on the back. His hands are always the exact right temperature, Remus appreciates that. Sirius’s hand creeps lower, under the bottom of his shirt and he rests his hand on the base of Remus’s spine.

‘Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?’ Sirius says low, Remus feels Sirius’s breath whoosh past his cheek.

‘You’re nowhere near as seductive as you think you are,’ Remus tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

‘If you say so,’ Sirius replies, tapping a beat with his fingers. ‘But I don’t believe you.’

Remus, for a moment, forgets the terror. It’s a terrifically sunny day, it’s warm. There would be bugs about, but nothing a deflection charm wouldn’t handle. And it would just be him and Sirius, as it often is, but up there it would be different.

Of course, he would be clinging to Sirius for dear life, praying to his ancestors and shouting the worst swear words he knew into Sirius’s ear.

‘Or,’ Remus says, ‘we could stay inside and eat ice cream.’

‘Moony,’ Sirius whines in a long, heavy breath. ‘We did that yesterday. I have a very short attention span and need distractions or I will wither away and die.’

‘But wh--’

‘And _die_ , Moony.’

‘If I consent—Sirius that is not a yes yet please calm down—if I consent, you are not allowed to ever ask me again, alright?’

He’s worried Sirius may have stopped breathing. Sirius appears frozen, his eyes slightly glazed.

‘ _Isthatayes?_ ’ Sirius barely moves his mouth.

Remus prepares himself because Sirius is about to explode, or crush Remus’s ribcage, or both. ‘Yes.’

Sirius makes a strangled noise of joy and proceeds to give Remus the biggest hug he’s ever received, one that cracks his spine. Once he lets Remus go, he kisses him sloppily, full of happiness. _He’s delirious_ , Remus realises. _I’ve fallen in love with a madman._

‘Moony, oh Remus.’ Sirius moves to the bike, rests a hand on the shiny black paint. ‘Oh, you’ll love it.’

‘Please don’t wet yourself,’ Remus says.

‘It’s too late for me,’ Sirius says. ‘Here.’ He grabs Remus’s hand, drags him to the bike and makes him feel the paint.

‘That’s … very nice. Thank you,’ Remus says.

‘Remus this is the best day of my life.’

Sirius looks at him with the widest eyes he’s ever seen. There’s a little twinge of guilt at not having been on the horrid motorcycle before, but well, love is madness, Remus supposes.

Sirius barely breathes as he rolls the motorcycle out of the garage and onto the road. Sirius gets on and it roars to life; Remus yelps. It’s so loud. He’s heard it before, but somehow with the knowledge that he will be riding that thing soon, it is louder and far more threatening that ever before.

‘Come on,’ Sirius shouts over the engine as he looks over at Remus’s cowering figure. ‘It’ll be fine, trust me.’

And that’s when it clicks—trust. All Remus has to do is trust him. He does, he trusts Sirius every moment of his life with secrets, sometimes with his body, his school career, other things. So Remus swallows, that lump of fear still stuck in his throat, and gets on the back of the bike. He presses his knees as tight to Sirius’s thighs as he can, grips him around the waist and clings to his back.

‘I need to breathe, Lupin,’ Sirius says, but he laughs. ‘It’s alright, just don’t let your legs fly out, don’t let go of me, and you’ll be right. See those bits poking out? Rest your feet on them. Yep, like that.’ He pauses, lets Remus breathe for a few moments. ‘You ready?’

‘No, but better now than ever,’ Remus replies, and then Sirius takes off.

His first instinct is to cling tighter, which he does. The second is to scream, which he also does. Sirius _whoops_ and they speed down the road, getting faster and Remus doesn’t tell him to stop.


	10. Breathe Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus's parents met in Wales so I'm mostly guessing that Hope is Welsh but this might be wrong so if it is, sorry!

It’s fifth year summer holidays and they’ve barely stepped through the barrier when Sirius sees a couple rushing towards them. If they’re like Moony they’re worried that they were late. Remus waves at them and they smile back. When the woman smiles, she looks like Remus.

‘Mum, Dad, this is Sirius,’ Remus says, tugging on his sleeve. ‘These are my parents, Hope and Lyall.’

Sirius shakes their hands enthusiastically. He doesn’t know how to act around parents. With the Potters it was easy, but they’re the only ones he’s known. ‘Hello.’

‘So, you’re Sirius? We’ve heard a lot about you,’ Hope says. She’s Welsh, Sirius realises. Remus never said she was Welsh. Now the tinges in Remus’s speech made sense and he could hear them for what they were.

Sirius wonders what sort of things Remus tells them. Does he tell them he steals toilet seats from the girls’ bathrooms, or Remus’s prefect badge? Does he tell them that he terrorises the first years and skips class and breaks into the greenhouses?

‘Well we best get moving, boys,’ says Lyall. They walk down a few streets as Remus’s parents couldn’t find a park close by. That’s why they were late, they explain before asking Remus how the train ride was.

Sirius knows that Remus hopes he will at least try to behave himself. _I rather like my house being intact and not on fire_ , Remus said on the train. And he tried to laugh but when a Moony is serious, Sirius knows. He can see now, the way Remus keeps picking at the loose threads of his jumper and fidgeting with _everything_.

When they get to the car, Remus picks at a bit of rust on the roof, frowning. There is a lot of rust. 

‘I’ve never been in a muggle car before,’ Sirius says once he sits down in the back. The door shuts with a surprising amount of force. ‘They’re ... odd,’ he says, inspecting the door beside him. It’s got a crank. Why does it need a crank? Emergency power? Do they have to crank it so the car keeps moving forward? Merlin’s beard.

‘You have to wear a seatbelt,’ Remus says, ‘otherwise Mum’ll get in trouble from the police.’ He indicates the black piece of material strapped across his chest diagonally.

Sirius yanks at the belt and it stops. ‘It’s stuck,’ Sirius says, turning to Remus. ‘Moony, why won’t it move?’ He yanks on it repeatedly. _Muggles, what do they know for fuck’s sake._

Hope gets behind the wheel and turns on the engine. It’s not as loud as his motorbike’s, but it’s all around him. He’s in a metal, glass box.

‘Here,’ Remus says, trying not to laugh at him. Sirius hopes the frown he’s directing at Remus is the very worst one he’s ever seen. ‘It’s a safety thing.’ He undoes his own and reaches across Sirius. Sirius resists the urge to kiss him because he doesn’t know if Remus’s parents know. ‘If it gets pulled too hard it thinks you’re in a car crash and it locks so you don’t go flailing about.’ Remus finally gets the thing moving and pulls it across, clicks it into place.

‘A crash?’ Sirius asks. ‘What do you mean, a crash?’

‘Nothing,’ Remus says, strapping himself in again. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘ _Moony_ ‘, Sirius hisses. The train has never crashed. The Knight Bus has never crashed. He would never, ever crash his motorbike because she’s too precious. ‘Do you have to wear these seatbelts every trip? Is that how likely a crash is?’

‘No,’ Remus says. ‘It’s, well, the statistics are quite high, but really Sirius I’ve only been in one crash and I’ve been in cars my whole life. Don’t worry.’

‘You’ve been in a crash?’ Sirius whispers. ‘Moony. How can I not worry?’

‘It’ll be okay, Sirius,’ Remus says. ‘Just a little one, I wasn’t hurt.’

‘This is why I have a motorbike,’ Sirius mutters. He thinks of her, safe in the Potters’ garage. Next holidays he’s not going to stop riding, he’s decided. And he’ll perfect that anti-bug-face charm that really does need a name.

‘How on earth have you not been in a car before?’ Remus asks. ‘Don’t the Potters have a car? Or your parents?’

‘My parents.’ Sirius snorts. ‘They would rather die that touch a muggle contraption. And the Potters don’t need one, because they’re wizards.’

‘All ready, Mum,’ Remus says, and then Hope backs the car out of its space. It’s so different to the motorbike, more like the train except so much smaller.

‘Remus,’ Sirius says. ‘This isn’t so bad.’ London passes by the window as they start off slow through the crowded streets.

‘See?’ Remus says, smiling.

‘So Sirius,’ Lyall says, turning around in his seat. ‘Remus tells me you grew up in London.’

‘Yes,’ Sirius says. ‘My er, my last name is Black, if Remus didn’t tell you ... you’ve probably heard of my er, family.’ 

‘Grimmauld Place,’ Lyall says. ‘I remember now. Your mother and I were at Hogwarts together. Not in the same year, of course.’

‘Fuck, I’m sorry,’ Sirius says, then claps a hand over his mouth. He desperately wants the Lupins to like him, and Moony doesn’t swear, which means he probably doesn’t swear in front of his parents because they are Good People.

Lyall looks a little taken aback, but he laughs. ‘She was an interesting woman.’

‘Interesting’s definitely a word,’ Sirius says. He doesn’t want to talk about his mother, of all people. ‘Moony says you work in the Ministry.’ People love talking about themselves, Sirius knows this much. 

‘Oh, yes,’ Lyall says and he blabs on for a while about his job. Sirius tries to listen, he really does, but there is only so much he can listen to in one go before poking James in the ribs and coming up with another plan. He should be paying attention because these are not just any parents, they are _Remus’s_ parents, but all he hears is a buzzing noise.

‘Sirius,’ Hope cuts through Lyall’s speech, sharp. ‘What did you call Remus?’

‘Er,’ Sirius pauses. ‘Moony.’

‘Moony,’ she repeats, and raises an eyebrow as she looks at Remus through the rear view mirror.

Remus nods.

‘You told them?’ she asks.

‘They guessed,’ Remus replies, and Sirius sees he’s going red.

They stop behind a row of banked-up traffic and Hope turns around in her seat. ‘Thank you,’ she says to Sirius. Her words are so warm, so sincere, that he needs to look away.

The rest of the car trip, Remus talks about their classes, leaves out the moon adventures and the animagi and all the detention. He’s been getting good marks, higher than usual. Sirius tells them how all the teachers love Remus, hams it up a little but it’s mostly true.

Hope slams on the breaks and Sirius yelps. ‘Moony!’ he cries out with his eyes closed, clutching Remus’s arm. ‘This is the end!’

‘Sorry,’ Hope says, then mutters something under her breath.

Sirius looks to the front of the car to see a woman hadn’t looked before crossing the road. If Hope hadn’t been so quick, would that person have died? As the car drives past, the woman looks at them with wide eyes, a hand on her chest.

Remus takes his hand. ‘You alright?’

Sirius nods, swallowing. ‘Can we Floo back to Hogwarts?’ Being this close to constant danger makes him queasy. 

Once they’re safely parked in Remus’s driveway, Sirius breathes again, safe from the muggle death trap on wheels.


	11. Memory

Remus remembers a lot of things. He remembers the way Sirius’s thumbs would press against Remus’s jawbone when they kissed. Sirius always had a desperation behind his fingers whenever they touched. Sirius always meant the kisses, Remus remembers that.

Sirius didn’t come home last night. Peter is missing. James, Lily, Harry. Dead. Sirius betrayed them all but all Remus can think about is how Sirius kissed him goodbye the last time they saw one another. Sirius had grinned and his eyes were hollow. They were always hollow these days, because they are too young to be fighting a war. But it still felt like he meant it. 

Remus doesn’t know what to do so he makes tea and sits in the kitchen. It’s cold and he should turn on the heater because he’s shivering, but instead, he watches the steam rise from his cup and does nothing.

Remus remembers how Sirius would sit in the kitchen in the mornings on no sleep after a night out with the Order, drinking black plunger coffee. Sometimes he would add milk but only at the end, when the dregs were too bitter. Remus would come in from the bedroom and no sleep and sit down and Remus remembers the bags under Sirius’s eyes. He was losing weight, worried about everything. When he undressed there would be new cuts, he could see Sirius’s ribs. Sirius muttered comfort into Remus’s ears, but they both knew he didn’t mean what he was saying because the war was going to kill them both, in the end.

He remembers when he told Sirius that he had to infiltrate into the werewolf community. Sirius clung to him that night, trembling. Couldn’t do anything except lie there and listen to Remus’s heartbeat and remember: _Remus was alive, they were alive._ He knew Remus had to do it, he knew Remus didn’t want to do it, and that’s why they never argued about it. 

Remus remembers mornings after becoming the wolf and Sirius was there with chocolate and tea. They would treat Remus’s wounds—no matter how careful they both were, still they would appear—in the bright morning light and listen to the world waking up around them. Sirius bought a muggle radio so they could listen to music without hearing how many of their friends were missing or dead. Watching Sirius count the muggle money was always entertaining. 

Remus remembers the fights Sirius would have with everyone, so much rage contained in his body. He would sneer and spit words as he looked on with his haughty, perfect face, cheekbones jutting out that meant no one would argue with him. Sirius was full of fire and so ready to ridicule anyone who couldn’t keep up with him. He wasn’t always right and he knew, but that never stopped him. 

And now, Remus doesn’t want to remember anything. He doesn’t want to remember the wide smiles, the silky hair, the nights with no sleep at all, the abundance of firewhisky after rough nights with the Order. There were a lot of rough nights.

Remus doesn’t want to remember Sirius, idiot, clever, impossibly beautiful Sirius, but he does. Of course he does.


	12. Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather than properly use the "insanity" prompt I changed it a little bit, for reasons.

Sirius would not be the first person that Remus has kissed. Not even the second. He wouldn’t even be the first Marauder, James has a very affectionate streak when he’s drunk. But when Remus thinks about kissing Sirius, it’s different. 

It’s silly. He shouldn’t be thinking about doing it, but well, Sirius is right there and …. Well, he’s _right there _.__

__“Moony?” Sirius says, putting down his book, face lit by the common room’s fire. “Why are you staring at me?”_ _

__“I am in awe of your dashing good looks,” Remus says smoothly. It’s not an out of the ordinary response, it’s just how they communicate now. He’d say the same thing to James, or Peter._ _

__“Carry on, then,” Sirius says, going back to reading. He scribbles something down on the piece of parchment beside him. He’s probably planning another prank, but Remus hasn’t asked yet._ _

__It’s probably silly. It was a fleeting thought when the two of them were at breakfast alone last Saturday because James had Quidditch training and Peter had gone along. Sirius was sitting there eating his beans on toast, bags under his eyes from getting two hours’ sleep, clothes dishevelled and he smelt because he hadn’t showered from last night’s adventures sneaking around the corridors. His hair was flat on one side and sticking up on the other from sleep, and still._ _

__Remus shakes his head. It’s silly. But the thought had kept coming back and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t thinking it, and now here he was again._ _

__“Sirius?” Remus asks._ _

__“Mm?” Sirius has ink on his face._ _

__“You, er, I—“ His heart speeds up as they make eye contact. Sirius has ridiculously attractive eyes, grey and sharp._ _

__“Moony?”_ _

__“Um, you’ve got ink on your face.”_ _

__“Can’t be helped,” Sirius says, waving his quill about. “The eternal struggle, all that.”_ _

__Remus smiles at him._ _

__“Are you alright, Remus?”_ _

__He doesn’t call him Remus a lot. Always Moony or Lupin, unless it’s serious. There’s probably a pun in there, somewhere. “No no, I’m fine.”_ _

__“If there’s anything, you can tell me,” Sirius says. “Alright?”_ _

__“I know,” Remus says. “Thank you.”_ _

__“Rightio.” Sirius adds another sentence to his notes. “This one’s almost ready, you’re going to hate it.”_ _

__“I know,” Remus says again as he surveys Sirius, his delicate fingers, unwashed robes, hair that hasn’t been brushed in a while that has a few knots in it but is still so perfect. Remus has made some kind of mistake, he knows, but …_ _

__“Come on, Moony,” Sirius says, standing up and tapping Remus’s shoulder. “Best show the others the plan that will get us expelled.”_ _

__“Expelled?” Remus says wearily, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He stands up, leaving his things on the table._ _

__“It’s going to be big,” Sirius replies, waiting for Remus by the staircase._ _

__He lets Remus go first, and Remus turns around to tell him to make sure he didn’t leave anything near the fire because last week they almost set fire to everything by accident because Sirius wanted to dry his socks, and Sirius is _right there_. Their foreheads almost knock together._ _

__“Sorry, Moony,” Sirius says, face much too close for comfort and now the butterflies in Remus’s stomach are vomiting everywhere._ _

__“That’s,” Remus says, swallowing. He could just lean in, right now. “That’s alright.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Sirius says, not moving._ _

__“Oi!” James’s voice calls out from above. “Anyone a bit peckish?”_ _

__Remus and Sirius move away from each other as James comes down the stairs, Peter and the cloak in tow. Remus is half-sure that Sirius’s hand brushed his._ _

__“I thought you’d never ask,” Sirius says to James as the all make their way off the stairs and back into the common room. He begins telling James about his plans, and James is grinning wickedly as he puts an arm around Sirius’s shoulders._ _

__Remus falls into step behind them, beside Peter, the butterflies have almost stopped vomiting, which is a little nice._ _

__Sirius looks back over his shoulder at Remus and he smiles, and then he winks, and the butterflies are back at it._ _


End file.
